Victory: An Olivia and Fitz Story
by Evey Edge
Summary: Fitzgerald Grant has just been elected as the next President of the United States. Olivia knows its time to resign. Will Fitz be able to change her mind? Fitz/Olivia


The noise from the celebration dimmed as Olivia closed the office door behind her. The blinds were already drawn, so she was safely hidden from the eyes of revelers. She could finally release the blinding smile she had locked in place ever since they had received the call heralding their victory. They had won. Of course they had won. She was Olivia Pope and she did not lose. Except this time maybe she had.

It wasn't her fault, of course. There was no maneuver she could have made to escape unwinnable situation she had ever found herself in. She told herself that this outcome was the best she could have hoped for, under the circumstances. All that was left to do now was to extract herself as gracefully as she could.

Olivia crossed the room and placed the envelope she held in her hands on the desk before her. Olivia stood, staring the paper rectangle containing the hardest words she'd ever written in her life. No tears. That would be weak, self-indulgent, and self-pitying. There would be no crying. She would take a few minutes to acknowledge her loss and then she would rejoin the festivities. She would celebrate what she had achieved for herself and her country. Embrace the pride and push away the pain.

Suddenly the clamor of the party invaded the office. Olivia turned around in time to see Fitzgerald Grant pulling the door to his office closed behind him. Her eyes drunk him in, all six feet of him. His tall, athletic build was hidden, as it almost always was, by a suit. His dark curly hair matched his dark eyes, eyes that were so dark that sometimes she couldn't tell where his pupils ended and his irises began. He turned to her and treated her to his sideways smile.

Fitz always smiled at her like that, ever since she'd told him he couldn't grin that way for the cameras. He'd accused her of being "an obsessive control freak," and she had countered; stating that the lopsided smile made him look like a mischievous school boy who couldn't be trusted. "Maybe I AM a mischievous school boy who can't be trusted," had been his teasing response. She had gotten her way as far as the campaign went, but Fitz never missed an opportunity to flash her the smirk, to let her know she'd never have complete control over him.

"I don't know if anyone's told you, but there's a party going on out there." Olivia forced a smile.

"I'm well aware. Right now it seems to be missing its guest of honor. You should get back." It was dangerous, his being in here with her. Olivia knew better than anyone how quickly rumor and innuendo could circulate. Fitz cocked his head, listening to the noise emanating from the room outside.

"Doesn't sound like they're missing me too much. I bet I could hide in here for an hour and nobody would even notice I'm gone." Olivia raised her eyebrows. He couldn't really believe that was true.

"I doubt that, Mr. President." The odds of someone not noticing the newly elected candidate had vanished were slim to none.

"Since when do you call me 'Mr. President'?" Fitz sounded almost offended, which was ironic considering the number of days they'd both slaved to win him that title.

"Since you became president about thirty minutes ago." When that call came it had been the single biggest moment in both of their lives. A new era had begun.

"You seem to be adjusting to it better than I am. Everyone keeps saying it to me, but it doesn't seem real." Fitz sounded bewildered, as though despite the years he'd been striving toward this goal, he'd never really believed it would actually happen. Olivia, on the other hand, had never had any doubt. Ever since she'd seen him, really seen him, she had known Fitzgerald Grant was destined to lead this country. He was strong, compassionate, and genuine. He led with his heart and pursued what was right, even at cost to himself. She more than represented him. She believed in him.

"You've got the rest of your life to get used to it." Strange thing about the Presidency, it was the only temp job in the world the followed you long after you stopped doing it.

"That's right. I'm President Grant until the day I die." Again, Fitz's tone of voice was conspicuously absent of the elation he should be experiencing.

"Try to sound a little happy about, would you? You've been working for this your whole life." It was a little late for second thoughts now, both hers and his.

"My political life maybe, but not my whole life. I didn't run around at five years old handing out "Vote for Grant" buttons." Olivia could see the image in her mind's eye, little Fitz tottering around in overalls, reaching up to shake hands with his imaginary constituents.

"It's a shame you didn't, that would have been a great photo for the campaign." It would definitely have won them even more support from the female demographic.

"Liv, ever the strategist. What I meant was that being President wasn't something I always pictured for myself." Despite herself, Olivia found her curiosity peaked. Fitz almost never talked about his past. He was usually a very 'in the moment' sort of man, never dwelling on the past or looking far into the future.

"What did you want out of your life?" Fitz shrugged and looked up to the left, trying to remember back to a time before he had been in the public eye. Back to when he was just a young man, not so different from the millions of other young men at the start of their lives.

"I wanted to make a difference. Serve my country. Fall in love. Get married. Have children." It sounded to Olivia like he'd more than succeeded achieving his objectives.

"Looks like you exceeded your expectations." Fitz grimaced slightly at her words and looked at the door, behind which hundreds of people were toasting him.

"Yeah, it does look like that doesn't it?" Fitz turned his gaze back on Olivia, "Liv, what are you doing in here?" Olivia gave her best cover smile. She only prayed it would work on him. Fitz saw through her more easily than anyone else she'd ever met in her life.

"I just had to drop something off. Let's head back out there before Cyrus and Mellie start wondering where you are." Fitz crossed the room in three steps and plucked Olivia's envelope off the desk.

"First I'd like to see what was so important that it couldn't wait until tomorrow." He stood before her with less than a foot between them, ripping the paper and extracting the letter she had written. He flipped it open and began to read, nodding slightly as if it was exactly what he had been expecting. He started reading her words aloud.

"'Mr. President, I herewith submit to you my resignation. While I take great pride in what we've achieved in our time together, I feel my services are no longer required. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to experience the beginning of what I am certain will be one of the greatest administrations in American history. Sincerely, Olivia Pope.'" He refolded the letter and stared down at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Mr. President-" Fitz cut her off before she could go any further.

"You were just going to leave this here for me to find? You couldn't even tell me to my face?" No, she couldn't tell him to his face, because she knew he would look at her the way he was looking at her right now, those dark eyes boring down into her soul and her resolve would crumble.

"Mr. President-" Olivia told herself not to look up, not to give into the temptation, because if she did, she'd be lost.

"Stop calling me that. My name is Fitz." She couldn't help herself. She looked.

"No, it's not! Not anymore." He couldn't afford to be in denial about this. He was just a governor or a presidential candidate anymore. He was the leader of the free world.

"There is just you and me in this room, and to you I am always Fitz." Oh god, she wished that were true, that they were in a small bubble, removed from time and space, where they weren't President Fitzgerald Grant and professional fixer Olivia Pope, where they could just be a man and a woman in love.

"In this room, any other room, in private or in public you are now President Fitzgerald Grant and we can't pretend you're not. I can't pretend you're not!" Things were the way they were. They couldn't be changed.

"Livy, look at me."

"No. I'm leaving. The election's over. You don't need me anymore." No one would question her moving on to the next challenge. This was the longest she'd ever elusively dedicated herself to one client.

"I'll always need you." God, she wished he would stop. How was she supposed to do the right thing for her country, for Fitz, when he kept saying those things to her?

"There are plenty of other crisis managers." Any one of them would be a smarter choice, given that she might one day become the scandal she worked every day to protect him from.

"You know that's not what I meant. I'll always need YOU." And then he kissed her, desperately, passionately, in a way the sapped her strength, and made her forget everything except how much she wanted to keep kissing him, how much she NEEDED to keep kissing him.

"I can't. We can't," Olivia whispered when they finally broke apart for air.

"Yes, we can. We'll find a way. We always have." Intellectually she knew things would be different now. As intense as the scrutiny had been on the campaign trail, things would only get worst from here on out.

"Fitz-"

"Please don't leave me, Liv. I can't do this without you." Olivia's gut read that as true. Fitz honestly believed he needed her. If that was true, then would staying really be so wrong? It would be months until they transitioned into the actually White House and there was so much she could help him with between now and then. Couldn't she steal just a little more time?

She took the letter back from Fitz, ripped it in two and tossed it in the trash. He smiled at her and despite herself, she smiled back at him. She pulled a tissue from the box on the desk and handed it to him. He wiped her lipstick from his mouth as she straightened his collar and tie.

"You'd better get back out there. I'll join you in a few minutes." He nodded, walked to the door, and rested his hand on the knob. He looked back over his shoulder at her.

"I love you." Olivia smiled as her gut told her it was true. Once he'd gone she's stood in the silence, leaning against the edge of the desk. In a few minutes she would reenter the throng, drink champagne, and laugh with friends and co-workers. She would wear the mask and no one would suspect a thing. Yet for right now, in alone in this dark room, she could speak the words she'd been too afraid to say aloud, even to Fitz. They were sacred, her blessing and her curse. They were the truth.

"I love you too, Mr. President."


End file.
